


Digital Wasteland

by MercuryHomophony



Category: HLVRAI (fandom), Half-Life
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26708773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryHomophony/pseuds/MercuryHomophony
Summary: After surviving the traumatizing events stemming from Black Mesa's ill fated test of their VR and AI systems, Gordon is called back from his medical leave to tackle a new problem. Frankly, he'd rather tell Black Mesa where to shove their grapes, but they have something he wants.Complete the mission, and win the freedom of his AI friends.Now he just has to get them on board and survive a digital onslaught from Xen. How hard can that be?
Relationships: Additional relationships TBD, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life), Gordan Freeman & The Science Team
Comments: 39
Kudos: 65





	1. The First Day Back to Work After Vacation is Always the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> *dance dance* Hello hello welcome to a self-indulgent adventure fic! Enjoy your stay!

Gordon grunted as the bag over his head was pulled off, knocking his glasses askew. He moved to fix them without thinking, and winced as the restraints tugged at his wrists.

Thankfully, one of his captors took pity on him, and he felt a brisk but careful hand straighten his cracked (again) lenses. He blinked a few times, adjusting to the sudden light after having been blind for what felt like hours. Squinting at the wall ahead of him, a familiar logo came into view.

“What.” He tugged at the restraints, turning his head to try and peer over his shoulder. “What the actual fuck, guys. I _work_ here, why the hell did you have to fucking kidnap me?”

He couldn’t twist far enough to see whoever was standing behind him in the other half of the room, but the silence was palatable. He sighed, slumping into the chair and taking in the side of the room he _could_ see. It was one of the interview rooms. He recognized it from when he had first arrived, fresh out of MIT, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to tackle the scientific wonders of theoretical physics under the guidance of the Black Mesa logo.

The same logo, annoyingly enough, that was staring back at him from across the room. You know, just in case any new hires _forgot_ where they were interviewing.

He just couldn’t figure out what he’d done to cause _this_ kind of reaction. He’d kept the NDA, taken the forced leave after the HypnoLobar VR AI project (HLVRAI for short) had been mysteriously cut, and done his best to keep his head down. Sure, he had sent a few emails asking around about the status of the Project Which Must Not Be Spoken Of, but none to anyone outside of the actual project. Technically, that wasn’t breaking NDA, right?

God, he sure hoped not. He remembered the rumors about the _last_ poor bastard who’d broken a Black Mesa NDA. He’d been part of the Theoretical Biology Department, which had been a fancy way of saying “the place where we keep the aliens.” Apparently, the day after he’d broken the NDA, he’d had an… _accident._

Gordon thought back to some of the creatures in Project HLVRAI, which had been based on those from Xen, and shuddered. What an awful way to go.

Still, for all his thinking, there wasn’t much changing about his current situation. He was still tied to an uncomfortable metal interviewing chair, in front of an equally unwelcoming table, with at least two potential kidnappers and definite assailants standing out of view behind him. He made another valliant attempt to crane his neck to see them.

“Hey, not that this isn’t riveting, but is something supposed to actually… happen? Or are we just supposed to sit here forever, or-?”

“Shut up,” one of the voices growled. He fought the urge to flinch. It sounded too much like other voices he’d heard before, in a dark room, before…

(He flexed his right hand. It hadn’t been real.

It had _felt_ real.)

“Okay, but can you at least tell me why I’m here? I haven’t fucking _done_ anything, I-” His head snapped forward, ears ringing from a sharp blow from behind.

“I said,” the voice replied darkly, “shut. Up.”

“Shutting up,” Gordon grit out. What he wouldn’t give for his mini-gun hand right about now…

(Don’t think about it, don’t think about it…)

He suffered in silence for a few long minutes before the door finally opened. An older woman, maybe in her late 60s, slid in. Severe was the only word that could have been used to describe her, from her silver hair in a tight bun to her reasonable but sharp flats. She didn’t even look up as she came in, entirely engrossed with a clipboard she was carrying with her. Behind him, Gordon could hear his guards straighten up. From the sound of it, it was just the two.

She pulled out the chair and sat, still flipping through the papers on her clipboard without looking at him. He figured talking was probably still off the table - from the look of her, if the guards didn’t slap him again for talking out of turn, she might. So, he took the opportunity to study her, trying to get a better read. She looked vaguely familiar, and he thought he had almost remembered when she finally looked up.

She blinked at him once over her wire-frames, then slid her gaze over to the guard that had hit him. “Why the hell is Dr. Freeman tied to his chair?” Her voice was sharp and icy, and if he hadn’t been feeling vindictive, Gordon might have felt pity on the guard for being on the receiving end of such scorn.

The guard shifted behind him. “…the dossier said to bring him in at all costs, Director.”

“I see. Then, am I to assume that, upon _asking_ Dr. Freeman, a Black Mesa employee in good standing, to accompany you to our facility, he _requested_ to be tied up?”

“Er…” Boy, there was _nothing_ Gordon would have taken to be in this poor bastard’s shoes. “No, Director. The dossier said he was unstable, so-”

“Dr. Freeman,” she said sharply, cutting off the guard’s explanation. “Could you tell me how you got to our facility today?”

He shrugged. “Bag over the head, blow to the temple, and a few hours in a van?”

Her lips pursed, and he could almost feel the room get colder as she turned a proper glare to the two guards. “If you wouldn’t mind, please untie Dr. Freeman. Then, step outside so we can talk. Be sure to give your names and ID numbers to my secretary. She’s just outside.”

Gordon felt the ties around his chest loosen first, and then his assailants finally came in view. Two Black Mesa guards, in standard guard uniform, sheepishly untied his arms, then his wrists. One of them kept his head down the whole time, probably stewing in anxiety for whatever punishment was waiting for him after this, but with his head down and the shadow of his helmet across his face, his eyes almost looked like -

(Glowing a sickly yellow or sallow green, never the right color as actual _human_ eyes, but never quite bright enough for Gordon to confirm-)

He blinked, and the illusion was gone. So were the guards, quietly slipping out into the hallway. Tentatively, he rubbed at his right wrist. The woman, the Director, was observing him quietly.

“You seemed very distant for a moment, Dr. Freeman,” she commented, seeing she had her attention again. “Has your leave done your mental health much good?”

He shrugged. “It’s had its ups and downs,” he said carefully. “And it’s been good to, you know…” he gestured. “Be topside for a bit.” Her face and title finally clicked in his mind. “You’re Dr. Ruttger, right? Director of our Government Contracts?”

“I am. I’m surprised you recognize me, as I wasn’t very… hands on for project HLVRAI.”

“Your picture was on one of the original training packets,” he said. “We had to be able to recognize you if you needed clearance, before they changed that policy.”

“Mmm, I recall that policy change. One of our better ones, though it’s unfortunate how it came about.” She lifted her clipboard again, looking over the first page. “I also apologize for your rough handling on the way here. Rest assured, you’ll be permitted to access one of the Emergency Health Stations before we move too far forward, but time was of the essence, and I had to send some of our more inexperienced guards to fetch you.”

Gordon could read between the lines. Those guards didn’t have the kind of clearance needed to operate in the actual labs. They were the kind of dumb muscle that put on a good show outside of the Black Mesa facility, who weren’t too curious and were paid far too much to keep their mouths shut about who and what came in and out of Black Mesa. Whatever he was here for, it was either off the books or something above his current paygrade. Or past paygrade. He wasn’t really sure where he stood at the moment, since his breakdown after HLVRAI. He was surprised to even hear he was still considered an employee. He figured the huge checks that he’d been getting were hush money, implicit orders to keep his head down and shut up.

“That said, time is tight at the moment, and we needed you here as quickly as possible,” she continued. “And, despite other failings, they did manage to get you here in one piece.”

“You need me for something?”

“We need someone,” she corrected. “But as it stands, you are currently the best person for the job. You are in the unique position of being perhaps the only person with any sort of experience tackling this kind of problem, and since we here at Black Mesa pride ourselves on hiring only the best, you’re it.” She pulled a packet of papers from her clipboard and slid them across the table to him. “As you’re aware, one of our main research objectives involves the study of extraterrestrial materials and lifeforms. This job involves that. Before I discuss anything further with you, however…” she pulled a pen from her breast pocket, tapping the papers in front of him. “I will need you to sign this NDA.”

“This sounds super fucking dangerous,” Gordon said, taking the pen with his left hand and ignoring the paperwork. “I’m still recovering from the _last_ experiment I was a part of, and that was all _virtual_. What makes you think I want anything to do with this one?”

She _tsk_ _’d_ at him. “Dr. Freeman, you’re not as subtle as you’d like to think,” she admonished. “Any email that comes through to a Black Mesa employee has to go through our servers - and that _includes_ any to their personal email,” she added pointedly to his shocked expression. “And before you ask, yes, it’s in your contract. I get that question a lot.

“But, to your question, I think you’ll find that we have an appropriate carrot for you. I understand you’re interested in the final coding files from HLVRAI. If you sign this, and follow through on your task, I can see that you’re assigned as head of that project, with no company overhead save myself.” She leaned back, affecting a relaxed look. “However, if that doesn’t suit your interest, I’m sure we could always find another reward. And, truthfully, if HLVRAI is discontinued, those faulty AI are just taking up valuable RAM. I’d hate to pull the plug on a project that had such unusual results, but part of my job is to make hard decisions.”

Gordon schooled his expression, biting back the scowl that threatened to show. “What makes you think I’d want to be working with Black Mesa on that?”

To his surprise, she leaned back in her chair, non-plussed. “You’d rather work independently on the AI, then. That could be arranged, although you certainly won’t be able to take Black Mesa tech along with you. I could pull a few strings to see that you and every file linked to that project _slip_ out of Black Mesa’s radar _permanently._ ”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“A promise. It’s not easy to get out from under the thumb of Black Mesa, and we’d be loathe to lose a brilliant young mind like yours - but, let us be honest, Dr. Freeman. Since your… accident in the lab, you have shown no desire to return to Black Mesa, except for your persistent badgering of the current staff regarding those files. You want to leave us, but your trauma has left you so attached to those buggy bits of AI that you can’t make yourself go. You have a problem. Fortunately for you, so do I.” She pushed the NDA papers meaningfully towards him, fixing him with a thin smile. “I believe with our respective positions, we can be each other’s solution.”

He stared at the NDA. The front page of it was mockingly pleasant, with a crisp Black Mesa logo in one corner, followed by the “lawyer lite” summary of the rest of the packet. He hadn’t bothered to read his when he’d signed on for HLVRAI. That had been a mistake.

“If I sign this, I’m only agreeing not to talk about whatever insane thing Black Mesa is doing,” he said. “That doesn’t mean I’m actually going to _do_ whatever it is you’re asking me to do.”

She folded her hands in front of her. “That’s sufficient. I think you’ll find once you know more, you’ll be inclined to aid us by your own judgment.” She nodded to the papers. “Feel free to read through them, but do read quickly. Time is pressing.”


	2. A NDA and AI DNA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordon gets the rundown on the situation. It's bad.
> 
> Fortunately, he won't have to go through it alone...

This NDA wasn’t anything different from the last - promises to keep his mouth shut, agreements on how much hush money he could be afforded if things went wrong (he’d thought that was a joke, when he’d signed for the HLVRAI project. It wasn’t). He still read the whole damn thing, just in case. Director Ruttger may have been acting pleasant, but she’d still had him kidnapped and brought to Black Mesa. He wasn’t sure he believed that his treatment was an “accident,” and he wasn’t about to let his guard down.

“Interesting. I didn’t realize you were ambidextrous, Dr. Freeman.”

Gordon grit his teeth as he signed the last form, left-handed. “I wasn’t.”

“Ah. A side effect of the accident, then?”

He carefully flexed his right hand under the table, out of view. He had a lot more mobility in it these days, after months of physical therapy. Today was a good day, but he didn’t feel like enduring the cramps that would certainly follow any attempt at writing.

“So,” he said as they made their way through the facility. “The Black Mesa Extraplanar Exploration ward. That’s new.”

“We’ve made a number of breakthroughs since you were last in the facility, Dr. Freeman,” she said pleasantly, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “Theoretical Biology has been making great leaps and strides. There’s even been a tentative collaboration between them and your department, Anomalous Materials, which is what spawned the new ward.”

“How did that happen?”

“Theoretical Biology was out of things to adequately dissect, and Anomalous Materials wanted something more interesting than carbon-based rocks to throw into lasers. They worked together to try and find a solution, and I’m sure you know how your colleagues can get when they’re given a problem.”

He grumbled a little at the vastly oversimplified description of his job, but let it pass, thinking instead of the implications of her words. Anomalous Materials had started as a lab testing unknown chemical compounds, but had quickly turned their focus to specifically extra-terrestrial compounds. The push had been before his time, something about a competitor buying up all the moon rocks on the black market, and Black Mesa wanting to outdo them. Since then, they’d reached further out, somehow acquiring samples that definitely shouldn’t have been on earth. Gordon wasn’t paid to ask where they were from, though, just to identify their properties as best he could _before_ they entered a test chamber.

“So, is that collaboration why I’m here?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. You helped program the scenario in project HLVRAI based on the Resonance Cascade emergency protocols, so I know you’re familiar with the concept.”

“Hold on, we didn’t-”

“No, no,” she said, cutting him off. “Nothing so dramatic. What we have acquired, thanks to the collaboration between Theoretical Biology and Anomalous Materials, is a series of small, stable portals that allow us to collect resources from other dimensions with far greater ease and accuracy than was ever possible before.”

He stopped walking and stared at her. She stopped a few steps further, turned, and frowned at him. “Please do keep moving, Dr. Freeman. As I said, time is pressing.”

“How can you say all of that so casually?” Gordon asked, walking again. Director Ruttger fell in step beside him. “I’ve been gone for six months, and in that time we’re suddenly gone from “scrounging any materials that happen to end up on Earth” to “actively collecting dirt samples from other dimensions!” And, for that matter, if we’ve got _open portals_ between here and some other dimension, how is that _not_ a resonance cascade scenario?”

“Not just dirt samples,” she said, pleased. “And, as I said earlier, Dr. Freeman, these portals are small and extremely self-contained. The method we use only allows for us to collect materials we already have access to, with a small margin of error around it that allows us to develop collections of new samples.”

“How?”

“We actually got the idea from the scenario you programmed, combined with an admittedly outdated philosophy from the so-called “alchemical sciences.” The idea being that like seeks like. By introducing certain stimulus to the samples we had already collected, we could establish a link to its original dimension. Additional stimuli allow us to use our sample as sort of a magnet, drawing that which is like itself back into our dimension. The field of influence is small, meaning that there is a limit on what can come through, but wide enough that additional matter can be brought here as well.” She gave him a thin smile. “Once this particular matter is taken care of, you can feel free to catch up on the documentation of it all. I’m sure an inquiring mind like yours would find it fascinating.”

He hoped that his expression was neutral enough to deny it. Frankly, he didn’t want much else to do with Black Mesa, aside from getting the AIs out, but… he’d started working here for a reason. Despite how bat-shit insane Black Mesa’s research was, it was also _fascinating_ , and a fair cry safer than other facilities like it.

That wasn’t to say it was safe, he thought, rubbing idly at his right wrist. It was a bad day when even VR had long-lasting consequences.

“Right now, I’m more concerned with what all this has to do with me,” he said. “You’ve said it yourself - this project, these portals have all sorts of naturally built in fail-safes. And, I presume, there are half a dozen artificial ones thrown in for good measure. So what went wrong?”

“An unexpected side effect,” she said, and he didn’t bother hiding his snort. She frowned, disapproving, but continued. “Any sort of portal that is large enough for matter to pass through must, by the laws of reality, also be large enough for information. We started to notice things about a month after the initial tests, though we think they actually started about two week after. Initially, we assumed that one of the newer interns had been messing with the computer system, and ran a full inquiry. Then, we thought it might be the scientists involved, but at that point, the bugs in the computer system were actively interfering with their research - there’s not one among that lot of fanatics who would have actively impeded the project’s process. By the time we realized that these computer viruses were not of Earthly origin, the whole system had been infected. And not just Extraplanar Exploration - every single department on the level had been hit. However this data transmits itself, it’s able to move from console to console without any sort of direct cabling. Even several gaming devices had to be confiscated, to avoid allowing this virus to further contaminate the facility.”

“Holy shit.”

“Indeed. Fortunately, this virus appears to have a maximum transmission radius, and we’ve been able to isolate it to just that floor. I can’t disclose information on all of the other departments there. I can assure you, however, that if these viral attacks go from random acts of malware to _targeted_ information retrieval, or worse, remote activation, we could be looking at total facility destruction. At minimum.” 

“That’s extremely ominous, but I’m still unsure what I’m supposed to do about that. My programming skills are basically limited to artificial environments and physics simulators - I’m not about to start white hat hacking against these things.”

Director Ruttger gave him a cool smile, gesturing to a nearby door. “We were thinking of something more direct that a white hat approach.” She keyed a password into the door panel and flashed her ID card, and it slid open silently to reveal a dark room. She stepped aside to let him in first. Gordon just crossed his arms, staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She returned it, then sighed.

“Ah. My apologies, I forgot about the paranoia your accident left you with.” She stepped inside, gesturing for him to follow. He did so cautiously, looking around as his eyes adjusted to the low light.

A handful of scientists sat in clusters at the far end of the room, hovering around consoles that cast them in an eerie green light. Several rows of servers lined the right and left sides of the room, outlined by strip lights along the floor. And, at the center of it all…

Gordon’s heart sank as he took in the mass of wires reaching from the computer databases like tendrils, coalescing at the center to wrap around a chair.

A chair which bore a very familiar headset.

He jumped in surprise when a hand clasped his shoulder. Director Ruttger gave him a wry, knowing smile, and he pulled away, annoyed with her and himself.

“I can see you have some concerns about using the HLVR again,” she said, walking over to the chair. “I think you’ll find, however, that the modifications we’ve made since your last… experience… will help assuage those.”

He looked at the headset, then at the director. “Let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “Your plan, to counter there viruses, is just to send me into the system to- what, beat them up?”

She smiled her ice thin smile. “Sometimes the simplest solution is the easiest one,” she replied. “These viruses respond too quickly for typical coding to find a solution, and flushing the system entirely is not an option. The HLVR system, for its flaws, counteracts both of those. You’ll be operating at the same level as these programs while plugged in, and you’ll be able to more efficiently target these viruses.”

“So you want me to go back into the HLVR system, again, and fight off a slog of alien monsters, _again_ , possibly risking literal life and limb… _Again._ How the hell am I even supposed to tackle all of them alone?”

“Ah. You may be pleased to hear this part.” She walked over to one of the monitor arrays nearby - a set of four, each linked to a sizable computer. A few taps of the keyboard, and the screens lit up. Gordon winced against the brightness, squinting at them.

Four familiar, pixelated faces stared back at him.

“You’ll have a team, Dr. Freeman.”

#

Gordon paced the empty room. Every now and again, he would glance around, but there was nothing to distract him from his thoughts - no windows, no doors, no clocks or bulletin boards, nothing. Dr. Ruttger had warned him that there would be a “boot-up” period that might be a little boring, but he wish they’d thought to render like, a magazine or something.

The updated version of the HEV suit didn’t even have a watch, which he thought was pretty stupid. Any good full-body mechanical tracksuit armor should come with some kind of timepiece on the HUD. Granted, they’d programmed this one to be far more protective, not just against radiation, but against the potential “corruption” they might face while taking out these viruses.

Without anything else to do, Gordon went over the list of rules and upgrades to the system Dr. Ruttger had outlined for him. One: This time, he had a communication device to interact with her and the rest of the scientists managing the system. It was a little glowing holographic panel that appeared over his wrist, and worked like a two-way chat box. He could dictate, and it would read out answers from the scientists outside. The only problem was, in the system, he’d be moving a lot faster than they would, so he couldn’t expect any quick answers.

Two: last time he’d been in the system, he’d been assured that anything that happened to him in the game would _only_ happen to him in the game. Since that had been very solidly disproved, they’d added some extra measures. His body was being monitored, and if anything critical occurred, they’d give him 30 seconds to confirm that he was alright via the chat. If he failed to do so, they’d eject him from the system. The pros of that were that he was safe from actually dying or losing an arm again. The cons…

Well, the cons led into number three: how the AI would work. Outside the game, if the Science Team were deleted, that was it. There wasn’t a program set in place to allow them to respawn in the larger Black Mesa computer system, and it was certainly too fucking late to implement one now. Dr. Ruttger had anticipated his desire for them to not die, or had decided that he would need all the help he could get, and had discovered a work-around.

The Science Team were set to send remote auto-saves through a program tacked on to Gordon’s new HEV suit. No matter where they were, so long as they were traveling with Gordon, they’d automatically be backed up. If one of them died, their last save would pop back up a few minutes later, no worse for wear aside from a few missing moments. If he died, though… That would be it. No more saves, no more respawns, and to be honest, Gordon wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get back into the HLVR system if he got grievously injured. He might have been the most experienced, but he had no doubt that he could be replaced… and there was no guarantee that whoever they replaced him with would care about the Science Team _at all_. Hell, there was even the off-chance that they’d just send the Science Team alone, backups or no backups, rather than risk any other employee collateral damage. Dr. Ruttger had already threatened to erase them once, albeit subtly, and Gordon wasn’t about to forget it.

He reached the far end of the room again, and turned with a sigh, pacing back. There was also the fact that he’d have to tell them the exact nature of… everything. The HLVRAI project, the simulation, them being AI, all of it. He’d wrestled with it for a while, but Coomer already knew, and frankly, it wasn’t fair to the rest of them to keep them in the dark. They deserved to know what was at stake.

He just hoped they took the news better than Dr. Coomer did. Gordon shuddered. He didn’t think he’d survive it if Bubby or Tommy decided he’d be better as a skin-suit than a teammate. Sure, Dr. Coomer would probably stand up for him, but every member of the Science Team was formidable, and it would be two against one.

(Gordon didn’t count himself. He knew his limits).

He’d reached the other wall for the umpteenth time when the walls around him shimmered, then faded, then reloaded. A standard Black Mesa break room sprung up around him, complete with faded employee rights notices sloppily tacked to a bulletin board, several uncomfortable plastic chairs and tables, and a busted, smoking microwave.

There was also a door, but Gordon ignored that for now. Instead, he pulled up the chat system. Two messages were waiting for him.

“ _Implemented waiting room sequence. Should be loaded, send notice if any bugs detected._ _”_

_“Implementing COOMER001, standby.”_

Gordon fidgeted nervously, suddenly feeling under-prepared. He hadn’t seen Coomer since HLVRAI had ended, aside from that final message the doctor had managed to send. He’d been nice about it, and Gordon had tried his best to get them out of Black Mesa, but what if Dr. Coomer had changed his mind sometime since then? God, what if he had been _aware_ this whole time, trapped in the depths of some computer files? What if he thought Gordon had given up on them?

He’d asked them to load Dr. Coomer first, so he’d have a chance to talk about explaining it to the rest of them. Now he was having second thoughts.

A figure appeared in the corner, facing the wall, and Gordon watched as the system loaded first his model, then the AI proper. Dr. Coomer straightened up, looking around at the blank wall in front of him, before turning around, puzzled.

When he saw Gordon, his face lit up.

“Hello, Gordon!”


	3. The Science Team!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordon gets Dr. Coomer up to speed, then tackles the terrifying task of telling three scientists that their tangibility is theoretical.

“Hello, Gordon!”

“Hey Dr. Coomer,” Gordon said, flooded with relief. That was not the voice of someone who wanted to climb through his brain to the real world, or however Dr. Coomer _thought_ that would work. That was the voice of his good friend, Dr. Coomer. “What’s up?”

“Ah, well! I think that would be a better question for _you_ , Dr. Freeman!” Dr. Coomer walked over to him. “Your name _is_ Gordon Freeman, correct? I must admit, I thought my last message to you was something of a crap shoot, but… Here you are! And here I am!” He looked around the rest of the break room. “Although we do seem to be missing the rest of the Science Team. I miss them every day.” He looked back, grinning. “Hello, Gordon!”

“They’ll be along shortly, actually. And yeah, Gordon’s my real name. But, I wanted to talk to you first, before they got here. About…” he gestured vaguely upward. “Out there.”

Coomer’s expression didn’t change, but his voice sounded flatter when he spoke. “Ah. The world outside the game, then. Yes, that is a topic which may be better discussed out of their earshot!”

Gordon winced. “That’s… actually the thing, Dr. Coomer. I want to tell them, and I’m pretty sure I’ll need your help to do it.”

Dr. Coomer stared blankly at him. “Dr. Freeman, you _do_ remember my three hundred clone army, correct?” he asked finally.

“How the hell could I forget?!”

“Fair! And valid!”

“But here’s the thing - in Black Mesa, the _real_ Black Mesa, the project that we were all part of, it was called HLVRAI - Hypno-Lobar Virtual Reality Artificial Intelligence. After, um… I almost died, it got scrapped. I don’t know if you know how long it’s been outside of game, but-”

“Oh, I Know, Gordon,” Dr. Coomer said, suddenly deadly serious. Gordon swallowed.

“I… was hoping you didn’t. I’m sorry, I tried to get here faster, but I was put on medical leave, and they restricted my access to the whole project. I was starting to think I’d have to break in and forcefully hack you guys out of here when they fucking kidnapped me and brought me in to solve another one of their gone-wrong experiments.”

“I see!” Coomer replied, all trace of gravitas gone. “Knowing what I know about Black Mesa based on what they programmed, can I assume things have gone absolutely off the rails, then?”

“You’re not wrong. They’ve been collecting samples from Xen - that’s the place they modeled the boss fight off of - and somehow, that led to their computers getting hacked by alien viruses.”

“I see!”

“Apparently, normal anti-virus measures aren’t working - these programs are either too smart, too fast, or both, and they don’t want to risk wiping the whole system if they can avoid it.”

“Ah! Gordon, I believe I’m starting to see the bigger picture here. After our extremely violent performance in the artificial Black Mesa, they’re expecting us to punch the lights out of these viruses.”

Gordon nodded. He didn’t know why he’d been so worried, now. Of course Dr. Coomer would be up for a fight. He did, as he said, “crave violence.” “That’s exactly it. They think the Science Team can get rid of the viruses more easily than they can, without wiping the system entirely.”

“We can certainly do that! However, I don’t understand why you’d need to tell the others about Out There.”

Gordon sighed. “That’s the other part of it. They brought me in because I’m the only one who had any experience with the HLVR system, and I’m the only one who has a rapport with you. They also know, thanks to some very invasive email protocols, that I’ve been trying to get access to you guys since the test. They needed me to be part of this, and in return, they promised that I could take you all out of here.”

Dr. Coomer’s smile froze, and he stared blankly at him for a moment. “Wh- what would that mean?” he asked, voice trembling.

Gordon smiled, clasping Dr. Coomer by his shoulders. “It means I’ve got a NES simulator running Punch-Out with your name on it, Dr. Coomer. And whatever else the rest of the science team wants.”

Dr. Coomer’s eyes widened slightly, then started to shine with tears. Before Gordon could worry about having made him _cry_ , however, he found himself being crushed as Dr. Coomer surged forward, arms wrapping around him.

“I can’t tell you how much that means to me, Gordon!” he said, voice trembling even through the ever-present boisterousness. “It - I can’t tell you - Hello Gordon!”

Gordon let out a rough squeak. His wrist started to beep, and Dr. Coomer dropped him in surprise. He winced, bracing his ribs as he checked the message.

“ _Notice - Irregularities in breathing detected. Assistance required Y/N?_ ”

He quickly shot back a “no,” taking a deep breath and wincing as his ribs ached. Dr. Coomer looked contrite. “I’m sorry Gordon! Sometimes I don’t know my own strength!”

“That’s fine,” Gordon managed without wheezing. “That strength is gonna come in handy pretty soon anyways.”

“Indeed! I’m looking forward to some good old fashioned alien punching! Just like old times, eh?”

Gordon chuckled half-heartedly. “Well, hopefully not _entirely_ like old times,” he said. He did his best not to think about it.

“So, let’s get the rest of the Science Team together, let them know that the entire world as they know it is a fake, and get moving! At this rate, we should reach the Lambda Lab by- Hello Gordon!”

Gordon smiled more genuinely at that. “Alright, I’ll tell them to load them up.” He shot off a quick message to the chat, saying that they were clear to boot up the rest of the Science Team. “It may take a minute, though. Things move a lot faster in here than out there.”

“Well then, that just gives us a moment to catch up!” Dr. Coomer took a seat in one of the chairs. “How have you been since we last saw you?”

Oof. “I’ve uh… been alright. There was a lot to deal with right after the experiment was over. You know, data and analyses and stuff…” Not to mention, he thought, the emergency care he’d needed. He idly rubbed at his wrist. Hopefully, whatever VR weapons they provided would be something simple, since he’d be firing left-handed. “After that, though, they sent me home and closed the project down. Like I said, they put me on medical leave, so I’ve been basically relaxing. Joshua was staying with Avery through the whole thing, but they’ve come to visit a few times, which has been nice. Mostly I’ve just been recuperating. And trying to get you guys out, of course.”

“Gordon, I appreciate that. But I’m glad to hear you’ve been able to take some time for yourself! Navigating the Resonance Cascade, virtual or not, was no small feat! And I know we didn’t make it easier.”

“Well, neither did I, to be fair,” he murmured. Three silhouettes appeared in the room, thankfully putting an end to that conversation. “Oh, looks like they’re loading in!”

Dr. Coomer came to stand by him, and they watched as the models loaded. Bubby, Tommy and Darnold stood around the room, facing various directions. Dr. Coomer frowned, puzzled.

“Aren’t we missing-?”

“What the fuck?” Bubby said, glaring down at the lunch table. He turned, looking at the rest of them, and frowned. “What the hell, why are we back in this shit-hole?”

“Mr. Freeman!” Tommy ran over, stopping just in front of Gordon and bouncing on his feet. “You’re- you came back!”

“Hey Tommy!” Gordon grinned up at him. “Yeah, back again!”

“…How did I get here?” Darnold asked quietly.

“Yeah, how did we get here?” Bubby demanded. “Last thing I remember, we were all at Chuck E. Cheeses! How the hell did we get back inside Black Mesa? And _why_?”

Gordon opened his mouth, but Dr. Coomer spoke first. “Bubby, do you recall that theory I explained to you? Back when we sent Gordon back to destroy his passport?”

“…” Bubby’s scowl narrowed. “Well. Fuck.”

“Wait, you already told him?” Gordon asked.

“Well, not explicitly,” Dr. Coomer said. “We simply discussed some of the more contradictory things in our universe, and the possibility that it was a simulation of some sort. Perfectly normal theoreticals, of course! I’m sure your degree from MIT had a course in calculating how many levels of simulation you were from the most simple simulated universe!”

“They didn’t have a course in that, but it was a popular thought experiment…”

Bubby crossed his arms, still glaring. “Apparently, it isn’t just a thought experiment. Dr. Coomer, you said you would give me your evidence when you thought the time was right, then clammed up all through the party. You better be ready to talk now.”

“I have to admit, I would also like an explanation about these simulations that we’re talking about,” Darnold added.

Gordon nodded, pulling out one of the chairs. “You guys might want to sit down for this,” he said. “We have a few minutes before we have to move out.”

“Move out?” Darnold said nervously, pulling up his own chair. “I don’t know, that sounds… violent.”

Gordon winced. Right, Darnold was a non-violent guy. Shit, that made things a little tougher. “Well… it’s probably gonna get that way, man. We’ll see what we can do.”

Bubby threw himself down into his own chair, fitting into the model mold of a seated person. Gordon suspected that if his programming allowed it, he would be slouching sulkily. “Less talking, more explaining.”

Gordon waited until Tommy took a seat (then waited through about half of a Wikipedia recital after mistakenly offering Dr. Coomer a chair), before he started. “Alright, so… I’m about to lay out some big things, and they may be hard to hear, but I think you deserve to know. First off:” He took a deep breath. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about what he would say when he saw the Science Team again, how he would explain the whole situation, and he had come to the realization that there was no explanation that made him sound _good_. No matter how he tackled the problem, he was a researcher who, along with all the other researchers, had been more interested in the implications of learning AI rather than the reality of actual, _real_ people, who just happened to be AI. He’d been kind of an asshole as a result, until he’d realized that the project had gone way off the rails. The real turning point had been Dr. Coomer’s fateful excursion over the mountains surrounding the virtual Black Mesa, the start of an existential crisis that had culminated in a 300 clone battle. In all the hypotheticals of the project, the AI was only ever supposed to be intelligent in that it could fully recognize and respond to its _simulated environment_. The simple fact that Dr. Coomer had gone beyond it, had recognized the void for void, had terrified him with the implications. He’d been more wary of the AI then, and had come to the horrifying realization that they weren’t just intelligent in the context of the world he had helped build. He’d bonded with them over killing bootboys and aliens. He’d been betrayed, which was something that shouldn’t have even been possible, and that only proved their agency more.

They were people, and he hadn’t really treated them as such at the beginning. That realization had given him his starting point.

“I want to start by saying, preemptively, that I’m sorry.” Bubby’s eyebrows shot up at that, and Gordon hurried on before the scientist could interrupt. “That’ll make more sense as I explain everything else, but I want it out there that I have made quite a few mistakes, and I want to make it up to you guys, because you deserve that. Secondly, and this will probably be the hardest part to hear - the four of you are artificial intelligences developed by Black Mesa, as part of a project called HLVRAI. I was originally sent in to interact with you and see how you developed under duress. Everything we went through - the test, the Resonance Cascade, the alien invasion, Xen - was a digital simulation, mostly as part of that project.”

He let that sit for a minute, carefully watching their expressions. Coomer was nodding encouragingly. Darnold looked confused and upset. Bubby looked confused and angry. Tommy only looked puzzled, which he hoped was a good sign.

“Gordon,” Bubby said at length. “What the fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's so much talking in this one, and probably the next one, before we get into some real action, BUT! Gordon wants to make sure the Science Team knows what's Up!!


	4. The World As You Know It Is False, But Hey! Kerbal Space Program Exists!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gordon has to convince everyone else that this has all just been a simulation. Fortunately, he's got one Dr. Harold Coomer in his corner!

“I know it sounds like I’m fucking with you,” Gordon said, “but it’s true. And it’s important that you know, because what comes next kind of depends on you believing me.”

“Believing that the whole world is a simulation? Do you know how crazy you sound right now?” Bubby asked.

“It does sound _pretty_ far-fetched, Mr. Freeman,” Darnold said.

“Professor,” Coomer cut in, “when you jumped on that rocket, where did you go?”

“ _Doctor_ ,” Bubby growled back. “And I blew up. Turns out my body’s not built to stand on the top of a rocket reaching escape velocity.”

“And when you came back, and floated up after it?”

Bubby frowned, and looked away, silent.

“You saw it too, didn’t you? Went outside the, er, skybox, as it were.”

“Dr. Coomer, we _also_ went to an _alien dimension_ ,” Bubby snapped back. “Anything that I saw or _didn_ _’t_ see outside of Black Mesa - with the Resonance Cascade, it’s possible that-”

“Come now, Dr. Bubby!” Dr. Coomer said. “Self-delusion doesn’t become you!” Gordon bit back the urge to add snark to that. “You saw it as well as I did. There was nothing outside of Black Mesa, because there’d never _been_ anything outside of Black Mesa!”

Darnold stood up. “Now hold on - if that’s all true, and you _knew_ all of this, then why didn’t you say anything before?”

Dr. Coomer gave a thoughtful hum. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I know that, in part, I was still coming to terms with what I had seen. Making excuses, trying to rationalize it. I _am_ a scientist, after all, if only a digital one!”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Dr. Coomer.” Gordon clasped his shoulder. “Frankly, you’re better than a lot of the scientists in the real Black Mesa.”

“Thank you, Gordon! But, I believe the other reason was that I was never _supposed_ to realize that everything was fake. Mr. Freeman may have more insight into this, but by the end of the “game,” I suspected that there was something built into my programming to act as a sort of philosophical failsafe, something that would reset me to a certain degree, keep me from thinking too hard about it. By the time Gordon had his, er… run-in with the US Military, I had become quite adept at countering it.” He turned to Gordon. “Which is why, after I gathered all my clones, I was rather single-minded. I do hope you’ll forgive me, Gordon.”

Gordon waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, Dr. Coomer,” he said. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to find yourself in that situation - I’d want out, too.”

“An excellent segue, Gordon!” He turned back to the other AI. “As Gordon mentioned, he needs us to trust him in order for him to get us all out of here.”

“Out of… where, exactly?” Darnold asked. He raised his hands. “Now I’m not saying I believe all of this, but if what you’re saying is true - we’re just programs in a computer. Where are we supposed to _go_?”

“Well, I plan on going to Punch-Out, for the Super-Nintendo NES!” Dr. Coomer announced.

“A port of it, anyway,” Gordon added. Darnold nodded knowingly.

“And Gordon has promised that he will make digital accommodations for everyone in the Science Team wherever they’d like!”

“And what would we do there?” Darnold asked. Gordon shrugged.

“Anything you want, man,” he said. “Look, right now, Black Mesa has this project in the can. I don’t think they’re going to _do_ anything else with it, which is one - fucking insane, because you guys are just absolutely baffling in the fact that you exist.”

”Thank you, Gordon!”

“And two, just ethically abhorrent since you’re all thinking, cognizant people. Dr. Coomer, you said you knew how much time had passed, even when your program wasn’t active. I’m not going to just leave you guys to rot in here. I know it’s not a perfect solution, but I figure getting to choose what kind of virtual reality you live in is way better than living in the void or whatever backup simulation Black Mesa might throw you into down the line, right?”

Darnold was nodding along now, looking thoughtful. Bubby was still unconvinced. “Why do you even care so much?” He gestured to the shoddy break room around them. “This is all virtual to you - Dr. Coomer, you even called it a game!”

“Well, Gordon called it a test earlier, but I do believe that it is more akin to a video game!” Dr. Coomer replied. “A **video game** is an electronic game that involves interaction with a user interface or input device, such as a joystick, controller, keyboard, or-”

“Yes, thank you Dr. Coomer,” Bubby called, cutting through Dr. Coomer’s wiki-lecture. “So we’re AI in a shitty video game. What the hell do you care? At the end of the day we’re just code, according to you.”

“…dude,” Gordon said, unprepared to respond to that. “We went through the Resonance Cascade together, and like - sure, maybe it was a simulation, but it _felt_ very real to me, and I went through that with all of you. You guys are-” He fumbled a bit on the word, knowing what he _wanted_ to say, and also knowing that it was probably too much for right now. Especially knowing Bubby. “You guys are my friends. We’re the Science Team, and I’m not going to let you guys sit in some dusty old computer lab in the Black Mesa basement!”

Bubby scowled, looking away with an irritated huff. Gordon didn’t press it - if the tables had been turned, he’d need a moment too. He turned to the other two. “Tommy, Darnold, how about you?”

“…I think I’d like to be in Minecraft…” Darnold said slowly. “I’ve seen some mods for potion crafting, and it might not be the same as it is here in Black Mesa, but I think it might be interesting to learn… and the world is very pretty.”

“I can definitely hook that up for you,” Gordon said, relieved. He might have a hard time getting Minecraft to adapt to some of the more outlandish things that Darnold could do with potions, but at least that was a game that was easy enough to mod. He might put it on Peaceful mode, though - he couldn’t imagine the man would do well with Creepers and Zombies. “Tommy, how about you?”

Tommy startled a little. “Huh?”

“You holding up alright there, Tommy? I know it’s… it’s a lot to take in.”

“Uh… yeah, Mr. Freeman, I’m fine!”

Gordon waited, but he didn’t add anything. “Um… do you have like… questions, or…?”

“Oh! Uh, actually, I- I thought there was going to be something else. Dad already told me about the Hypno-Lobar VR AI project awhile ago, after my birthday party.” Tommy shrugged. “He said it was- it’s pretty important! But he didn’t give me a lot of details.”

The whole room stared at him. “…Alright then,” Gordon finally said. He was going to make the executive decision, for the sake of his sanity, to not ask about that. Yet. Just… put it aside for a different time. “I’m… glad you’re up to speed, then.”

Bubby was the one to break the awkward silence. “Alright, I believe you, Gordon.”

Gordon blinked at him. “You…do?”

“I really fucking hate to admit it, but… it makes sense. You saw the numb-nuts we ran into on our way through Black Mesa. Did _they_ look like they were capable of creating _me_?” Bubby scoffed. “I don’t think so. It makes more sense that they were a simulation rather than the real deal. Besides, I rode a fucking _rocket,_ and instead of going to _space_ I ended up in some weird, polygon void.” He scowled. “Biggest goddamned disappointment of my damn life.”

“…Okay…” Gordon hadn’t been expecting Bubby’s narcissism to work _with_ him here, but he’d take it. “Sorry you didn’t get to see space.” Bubby glared at him. “But, if we get out of here, I can think of like, five different space exploration games or space physics games that you’d probably love.”

Bubby perked up at that. “Do I have to pick one?” he asked after a moment of consideration.

“Not really? I mean, if you ever get bored, I can just move you to a different game.”

“Oh! You’d probably like Kerbal Space Program!” Tommy said. “You get to - uh, to build your own rockets, then launch little Kerbals into space!”

“But _I_ want to go to space!”

“You’ll just have to go to space _after_ the test, Dr. Bubby,” Dr. Coomer said, reaching over to pat him on the shoulder with his extendo-arm. “After all, we do have a ways to go before we can claim our well earned reward!”

“Right, right,” Bubby grumbled. “So, what comes next, then? You said you needed us to believe you.”

“Ah yes, the task at hand!” Dr. Coomer stepped in again, and Gordon let him. He was doing a pretty good job of explaining everything to the rest of the AI. Maybe it was part of being a tutorial AI before they’d done… whatever they had done to give him sapience? Before the first HLVRAI test, Gordon had been told he’d meet 2-5 AI, depending on how the numbers shook out, but that the first one would be a scientist designated to assist him through the simulation through tips. That had made it all the more jarring when the first unique, self-aware individual had been _him_ , instead, and helpful Coomer had been the _last_ person from the Science Team he’d met.

“You see, much like our simulated Black Mesa, the real Black Mesa has been messing around with objects of extra-terrestrial origin!” Dr. Coomer continued, unaware of Gordon’s thoughts. “And, while their situation is not nearly as dire, bloody and traumatic as the experience they hand-crafted for us unknowing AI,” (Gordon winced), “it was causing them enough trouble that they decided to call Dr. Freeman, and us, back into action!”

“That sounds bad,” Tommy said with a frown. “What’s happ- What’s going on?”

“Black Mesa’s computer systems have been infected by alien computer viruses,” Gordon said. “They’re too advanced for the scientists to remove from the systems, not without deleting everything in the database. The higher-ups don’t want to have to resort to that, since there’s a lot of research stored there, but unfortunately there’s also things like nuclear launch codes and military secrets, and-”

“And Wikipedia, the Free On-Line Encyclopedia that Anyone can Edit?” Tommy asked, worried.

“-no, that’s-” Gordon fumbled. “That was a function of virtual Black Mesa. To be honest, I’m not even sure how that happened. But basically, there’s a lot of important stuff there. Right now, the viruses are just messing with the system, but the Director is worried that if it becomes a targeted attack - if the aliens realize they’ve got a foothold into our computer systems - it’ll be bad.”

“Given you just said that it would give them access to _nuclear codes_ , I think that might be an understatement!” Darnold said.

“Indeed! It could be quite terrible,” Dr. Coomer agreed. “Fortunately, Black Mesa has a team that’s well equipped to fight off digital assailants, and extremely well-versed in punching aliens!”

Bubby stood. “So Black Mesa wants us to slog through another digital compound, fighting off aliens, possibly _dying_ , and when we win I get to go to space?” He grinned sharply. “Count me in. I wanted to perfect my run anyways.”

“Excellent! Welcome back, Professor Bubby!”

“ _Doctor._ ”

“Y-yeah, I’m in too, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy added. “That all sounds pretty - pretty bad, and I wanna help!”

“Thanks, Tommy, I knew I could count on you.”

“Um…” The group turned to Darnold, who was fidgeting with his lab coat. “That does sound bad, but- but I’m not… I don’t think I _can_.”

“That’s fine!” Darnold turned to look at Gordon, who raised his hands. “I get it, you’re a potions guy, not a fighter. The four of us were able to get through Black Mesa pretty well on our own, and this area should be virus protected, so if you want to stay here, that’s fine.”

“I don’t want to _not_ _help,_ Dr. Freeman,” Darnold added crossly. “Just because I can’t fight, doesn’t mean I can’t help!”

“I didn’t say that,” Gordon replied, thinking fast. The Director had given him a list of equipment that he would be able to access for himself and the Science Team in simulation, and he tried to think of anything that would… “Actually, I do have an idea. Hold on.”

He pulled up the holo-chat on his wrist, typing in a few quick commands. Almost instantly, several objects appeared on one of the nearby tables. He picked one up. “So, these are special communicators - they’re supposed to allow for instant verbal communication between members in a team, and offer visual for whoever is supervising.” He picked up another, larger item - a tablet screen, currently showing a feed of the tabletop from various angles. “I figured it would be kind of useless, since all of us would be moving through together, but if you want to stay here, how do you feel about being the communications guy?”

Carefully, Darnold took the tablet, inspecting the different camera views as Gordon handed out the rest of the communication devices. They were pretty slick - half ear-piece, half headset, with a tiny adjustable camera rigged to put it in an optimal position (Gordon had a hell of a time getting his to record something that wasn’t just _hair_ , before finally resigning his camera to its inevitable half-obscured image). “Yeah, I- I think I can do this,” Darnold said, looking around at the group. “I’ll help coordinate you guys, just in case you get split up.”

“Great! Excellent.” Gordon clapped his hands together, looking around. “Alright, so now that we’re all on board, let me lay out a few quick things before we head out…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Science Team is ready to go! Next Chapter - Into the Black Mesa Computer Network!   
> And maybe, a peek at someone who's missing?


	5. Into the System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone just wants a damn nap. Everyone else is geared up and ready to go!

There was light everywhere. And it was real fucking annoying. How’s a guy supposed to get his- his sleep, his good good night time, when every inch of this dumb building was lit up all the time?

Even the vents were lit. They hadn’t the first time he’d scuttled out of the chamber they kept him in. Guess the scientists had gotten smart, or something. Lit everything up so he couldn’t get some naptime in. Stupid scientists.

When was the last time he’d slept, anyway? Time got harder the longer he was awake, which made it easier to tell, because the harder it was to tell the time, the longer it had been, so if he had a really hard time telling the time, then…

…

Where was he?

…

Ohh, the vents. Black Mesa. Stupid name for a stupid place. If he could just get like, one good sleep, he would be out of here. One unit of sleep. Was that so much to ask for the scientists’ good good friend?

Apparently it was, because they always left those dumb lights on in the testing room. Made it impossible to sleep. Made it hard to sneak away.

Hard, but not impossible. Not like sleeping.

Where was he?

The vents. The vents away from the test chamber, looking for somewhere dark to sleep. So he could rest up a little. So he could think a little. So he could get the rest of him into the vents, so that he could all rest, so he could all think.

When was the last time he slept? It had been a while. He sighed, tangerine-flavored lights filling the vent around him. Fond memories. He’d been searching so long, before finding another testing room, dark except for the glow of a few monitors. None of the scientists had noticed him slipping out of the vent grate, curling up under one of the many huge, warm humming boxes that the monitors were attached to. They were too busy fussing over another human at the center of the room, talking about “vitals this” and “process that.” Boooooring.

It had been dark, though, so he’d taken it. But that had been a… a… a many times ago. And it hadn’t been nearly enough sleep to fully run on. He needed some good R&R.

He passed a grate, sliding mindlessly through the vents, before pulling up short. He doubled back.

Through the grate below was a dark room. Fucking _finally_.

He dropped silently through the bars, landing between two humming boxes. Servers. Wikipedia? No, Wikipedia was gone… He tumbled, his thoughts tumbling with him. Had he dreamed about destroying Wikipedia, or had that happened?

This room was a lot like the last room he’d napped in. Scientist-types bustling about, lit only by their computer screens. Human lying at the center, its head covered by… something.

There was a familiar smell, too, but he was too tired to care where or what it came from. Right now, the only thing he wanted was sleepytimes.

He slipped into one of the warm boxes, curling over the humming circuits without breaking any of them. If he broke things, then scientists would notice. He was good, very sneaky, wouldn’t break things and he’d get a good nap. 100% run.

His eyes slid shut, one by one. GG, naptime-place speedrun for good ol’ Benrey…

#

With everyone armed and up to speed on how the new updates to the HEV suit’s capabilities (with Gordon giving special emphasis to “Don’t let Gordon get killed” and “Don’t move too far away from Gordon, because he doesn’t know the respawn range on the HEV suit and is _not_ about to lose anyone), the Science Team was ready to go. Armed and dangerous, with Darnold standing well away to the back of the room, they opened the door to the rest of the facility, prepared for anything.

Outside, there was a blank, quiet hallway.

“…Well, that was anticlimactic,” Bubby complained, stepping out to look around. “I thought you said this place was overrun!”

“It is,” Gordon said, tapping at his chat window and reading the new notices from the outside world. “The Director says we’ve just left the local protected servers. Darnold, can you still hear us over the communicators?”

“It’s coming in loud and clear, Dr. Freeman,” Darnold replied behind him, his voice echoed with perfect clarity in the ear-piece.

“Great. So, now we’re in the connection to the rest of the Black Mesa servers.” He looked down at the chat, and frowned at a new message.

_“Is AI_D Defective?”_

“What’s AI D?” he typed back. To the group, he said, “The first place we’ll be going is actually one we should all be familiar with - my old department, Anomalous Materials.”

“Oh goodie, we can start a _second_ Resonance Cascade,” Bubby said, voice dripping sarcasm. Gordon rolled his eyes.

“Let’s hope not.” He turned back to the chat.

_“AI_D Was Left Behind In The Protected Server. Is It Defective?”_

Shit, they were talking about Darnold. “No, that’s Darnold - he’s covering communications through the relays you built in.”

There was a long moment while he waited for a response.

_“Understood. We Will Leave It Running.”_

He scowled at that, closing the chat window. If he had needed any proof that he was doing the right thing by the Science Team just by being here, that was it.

“What was that about, Gordon?” Bubby asked.

“Oh, this?” He pulled up the chat again, then dropped it. “It’s how the outside team communicates with me - lets me know if any objectives have changed, monitors my vitals, stuff like that. They wanted to know why Darnold was staying behind.”

“Well, quit playing around with it and let’s get a move on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Gordon said. The four of them moved quickly down the hallway in a cluster. During the original HLVRAI test, Gordon had never tried to keep them to any sort of strategic formation. He’d been instructed to keep the AI moving, and to let them develop naturally, which had meant keeping them pointed in the right direction but otherwise let them do as they wished, generally speaking. He wished they had more time to actually come up with formations and plans of attack, but the Science Team (save for maybe Darnold) weren’t exactly known for their long attention span. Not for anything Gordon had to say, anyways. Besides, he thought to himself, the Science Team had one thing that they always did well.

“Gordon, I hear movement up ahead!” Coomer hollered, taking off and rounding a corner up ahead. Bubby and Tommy immediately followed suit, leaving Gordon in the dust for a moment.

“Wh- Guys!” he shouted in exasperation, running after them. “Hold on, what did we _just_ talk about with HEV suit range?”

“Maybe keep up, Gordon!” Bubby yelled back, turning the corner. There was gunfire now, and Gordon jumped when Darnold’s voice piped up in his ear.

“Yeah, that’s… Something. I don’t know what I’m looking at but that’s definitely something not from Earth.”

Gordon rounded the corner, weapon up, and took quick stock of the situation. The section of hallway ahead of him was short, ending in a door with some sort of red force-field covering over it - “ _the firewall between the department servers,_ _”_ his brain helpfully reminded him. None of the scientists had known what everything would look like, once he got into the computer, but he knew what he ought to be looking for, and that looked like a portal to another department.

Unfortunately, spilling out of said portal were what he could only assume were the viruses.

He lost no time gunning them down, careful to avoid hitting his team as he stepped up to join them. He had to pace himself - his aim was a lot worse left-handed, and the last thing he wanted to do was start this mission out by shooting one of the team. Fortunately, Bubby and Tommy were also working at range, Tommy with his sharp-shooting skills, Bubby with spray-and-pray and the occasional incineration. Dr. Coomer, predictably, had armed the brass knuckles they’d found in the supply list, and was absolutely decimating the things.

Gordon had some speculations about what the viruses might look like - they were from Xen, after all, and he’d had enough time watching simulated creatures and objects from that place last time he’d been plugged in to the HLVR. He figured that these things would look the same.

He was only partially right. These things weren’t too unlike the peeper puppies in form - tripedal, hunched back, and flat front. The viruses, however, made this low crackling sound instead of the shrill cheeps the peeper puppies had made. Instead of being fleshy or slimy looking, their multicolored forms were oddly translucent, as if they were made of glass or some sort of plasma. They also didn't seem to be able to walk, instead teleporting short range with flashes of static.

Behind them, a thick, fleshy, glowing tendril was digging its way slowly through the portal, grasping at the walls around it as if trying to widen the entryway around it. That was… less than ideal.

“Hey Bubby!” The other scientist let out a grunt of acknowledgment. “Can you focus your fire on that weird tentacle thing? Try to push it back!”

“Little busy with the sparklers, Gordon!”

“I’ll cover them. You’ve got the firepower to handle the big one.”

Bubby grumbled, but grinned. “Fuck yes I do,” he said, before _launching_ forward in a red and white glow. Dr. Coomer jumped back as Bubby blazed past him, colliding with the tendril with a loud _crack!_ A couple of sparklers (as good a name as any, Gordon thought) were ignited by proximity, and crackled angrily until Tommy and Gordon took them down. Dr. Coomer switched to ranged, falling back a little.

As they cleaned up the pack of sparklers, Gordon watched as the glow around Bubby turned from red hot to _white hot_ , obscuring the scientist from view in a flash of light. He had to stop firing, raising one arm to cover his eyes, although he could still hear Tommy and Dr. Coomer’s guns still firing on either side of him.

After a moment, the light dimmed. It took Gordon another minute to blink away the afterimages, squinting towards the door.

Bubby stood there, lab coat only slightly singed, looking down at the digital ashes of their enemy as it defragged into bits and vanished. The sparkler bodies, though not as badly burned up as the tendril had been, were also slowly dissolving into code.

_“Well,_ ” Gordon thought to himself, _“at least I don’t have to worry about blood splatter this time.”_

“Were you always able to do that?” he asked Bubby as the walked over to join him. Tommy spent a moment putting another bullet through any sparkler that didn’t look like it was dissolving fast enough. “I knew you could set fire to stuff, but that-”

Bubby scoffed. “I mean. I always _could,_ I just wasn’t _able to_ until that final battle we had with Benrey.” He held up his hands, and flames appeared, flickering over his palms. “Looks like they didn’t bother resetting my limiters! This is going to be a cakewalk!”

Gordon shifted back slightly, the heat being a little too much to be comfortable with the HEV suit, but grinned right back. “That’s the spirit,” he said, stepping up to the firewall. “First stop - Anomalous Materials!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've made it to the computer system! :D Surely everything will be smooth sailing from here!


	6. G.Freeman@Black.Mesa: Login

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Science Team meets some old enemies, some new enemies, and breaks the bro code by digging through a friend's (work) computer. It's okay, they find a cute pic!

They blew through the first dozen rooms in no time. The Science Team had never been a well-oiled machine (everyone in the group was far too chaotic for _that_ , Gordon included), but they’d gotten better at teamwork during their time in virtual Xen, where it had really been life or death. Gordon had figured out by that point that there was no leaving the simulation without completing it first, and had maybe been panicking a little, and the Science Team seemed to have recognized the seriousness of the situation. They’d been more coordinated fighting _him_ than almost anything else.

This, they weren’t taking nearly as seriously, but Bubby and Coomer were making an effort to stick closer to the group, and Tommy was just being good old Tommy. And, if there was one thing that the Science Team excelled at, it was outright wholesale alien murder.

“Get fuck, you overgrown - Stop that!” Bubby scolded, punching some sort of insectoid alien with Dr. Coomer.

“Get fuck!” Dr. Coomer added agreeably, and Gordon couldn’t help but snicker as he lined up his own shots on the other targets around the room. They’d encountered a wider variety of creatures this time through - Gordon wasn’t sure if it was because of HLVR system was translating small variations broadly, or if these were all distinct types of computer viruses. They’d run into more of the Beeper Buppies (renamed by Bubby) alongside other virtual versions of the creatures they’d fought before, and one more tentacle. (They all had suggestions for that one, none of them good, but the discussion had been cut off by Tommy’s suggestion of “Octo-Pi, since it’s a tentacle and a computer virus, s-so it’s programmed with numbers!” which had prompted Dr. Coomer to launch into a short Wikipedia description of pi, followed by 5 minutes of pi digits before they were able to snap him out of it). They’d also seen these weird, radioactive-looking ants, with a blackened loose carapace and the same glowing multicolored skin as the Beeper Buppies, and tiny, snarling things the size of a squirrel that would just ambush the team whenever they approached, circular rows of teeth bared. They’d named them the Strobe Ants and the Killer Furbies, respectively.

They all seemed to have different tasks, as well. The Strobe Ants would gnaw on the room around them, taking apart the simulated furniture and crates that were representations of data in the system. The Beeper Buppies and the Virtual Voriguts were big enough to move things around, pushing boxes and crates from place to place with seemingly no real goal but to cause confusion. The Killer Furbies, Gordon suspected, was a literal scare tactic - they were easy enough to kill, but they were scary enough that if you encountered it trying to bust the viruses, you’d worry that there was a worse problem.

The only one he hadn’t figured out yet was the tentacles they’d seen. They were never attached to a creature - they seemed to instead just clip through walls at random points throughout the server, and while getting hit by one _hurt_ (ask Gordon how he knew - Darnold had even warned him to hit the deck, and instead he’d turned and gone “What?” before getting smacked across the room), it didn’t seem to be doing much of anything. There was always a pack of Beeper Buppies around them, though, so they must have been important.

“Mr. Freeman!” Tommy, who had been scouting around to make sure they hadn’t missed any ants, waved him over to a door. Gordon jogged over.

“Hey buddy, what’s up?” Tommy pointed to the nameplate on the door, and Gordon blinked back his surprise. ‘G.FREEMAN’ was emblazoned on the metal. “Huh. Have all of them had names on them? I haven’t been paying attention.”

“Uh, some of them have had names, but others are just descriptions,” Tommy said. Bubby and Coomer, having finished punching the strobe ant into oblivion, joined them.

“Look, Gordon! This room has your name on it!” Dr. Coomer exclaimed.

“Must be my work computer, I guess.”

“Oh hell yeah, let’s raid Gordon’s desktop!” Bubby charged past them, blasting the door open. Dr. Coomer was quick to follow, leaving Gordon and Tommy hard on their heels.

“Wait, don’t- don’t set fire to my desktop!” Gordon half-shouted, half-laughed.

“I make no promises!”

As Gordon caught up with the older scientists, he looked around. The room didn’t look too different from the others they had been through - plain, Black Mesa walls, some static-looking office equipment, and a couple of storage crates. Bubby had gone over to one of the crates, inspecting the side, before moving on to another.

“Doesn’t look like much from in here, I guess,” Gordon said, giving the room another once-over. He didn’t spy any viruses, which was a bonus - he didn’t have a lot on his work computer that was personally dear to him, but he did have some neat physics simulators he’d been working on before he’d been moved to the HLVRAI project. He’d like to work on them again at some point.

“Gordon, if you don’t want me to explode and set fire to everything, get over here!” He rolled his eyes, trotting over to Bubby, who’d gathered with Dr. Coomer and Tommy around one of the crates.

“What is it?”

Bubby gestured towards the crate, “Pictures” emblazoned on the side, with a grin. “You’re the crowbar-man, dingus!”

“We all have the same available inventory, Bubby,” Gordon said, holding up one hand. A few different objects flickered through his grasp as he selected the weapon of choice, finally settling on the crowbar. “You could have just done this yourself.”

“And have you nag at me about your privacy? Pft. No thank you.”

Gordon snorted, starting to pry the top off of the crate. “What privacy? Black Mesa is all over these servers. I don’t know what you expect to find in here, but I bet it’s not going to be near as juicy as you expect.”

“Well, I figured we’re going to break into some of these crates one way or another, and this one is a hell of a lot more interesting than your emails.”

The crate lid popped open with a crack, and Gordon almost stumbled as it gave. “You guys found my email?”

Bubby jerked a thumb over one shoulder. “That other crate, by the desk.”

Gordon left the rest of the team to look through his pictures (they’d be pretty disappointed if they were looking for something interesting, unless they found theoretical physics schematics amazing… then again, they were also scientists, so maybe they would). He started prying open the emails crate instead. He had to admit some curiosity to what had been happening at Black Mesa while he’d been gone - even if all he had in his inbox was some company-wide spam, there was sure to be something odd.

It took him a little longer to break this one open. Looking in, he could see what appeared to be sacks of mail - by the labels on them, they were his email folders. Weird.

It hit him that he was really _in_ a computer at the moment. Not just a pre-programmed simulation, or even a simulation that had gone off the rails. He was standing on his own desktop, while his body was somewhere else in the facility napping. What would someone even see if they logged into his computer right now? Would they see the Science Team, digging through his files? Or would the whole team just be running in the background, invisible to the user?

Gordon shook himself. That… that was too introspective for right now. They needed to focus on getting this place cleared out, as soon as the Science Team wore themselves out on this little detour. He’d learned that there was no way to convince them out of something goofy like this, so he might as well let them have their fun.

Besides, they’d been doing well so far! And, Gordon had mail.

He grabbed the top-most sack, labeled “UNREAD.” It took him both hands to pull it from the crate, and spilled as he lugged it over the side. A quick glance told him that he hadn’t missed much - lots of standardized email headings, regarding changes in HR, security, scheduling, etc… all normal, Black Mesa things.

And then, there was one email labeled “For Your Eyes Only, Dr. Freeman.”

Gordon blinked, picking that one up and turning it over in his hands. There wasn’t a name on it - just his email, and the cryptic subject line. Carefully, he opened it, pulling out a piece of paper, and a photograph. He looked at the paper first, a short, neatly typed message waiting for him.

“Dr. Freeman.

Thank You For Seeing My Progeny Through Such… Dire Straits. I Thought You Would Appreciate This Token Of Celebration From Your Trials.”

Gordon’s insides froze as he read that, before his eyes dropped down to the name.

“G. Coolata”

He flipped over to the picture. The Science Team, plus Sunkist, grinned back at him with varying levels of enthusiasm from the dance floor of a Chuck E. Cheese’s restaurant.

That…

That hadn’t…

He hadn’t told anyone about that part. He had lied about it, said that the last thing he remembered was defeating… the big bad, in Xen, finishing out the simulation. He’d omitted it thanks to shock, at first, but afterwards, thinking over the party and Dr. Coomer’s message, he’d purposefully kept it hidden, just in case Black Mesa got any ideas about his friends.

When he’d been planning to get everyone out of the simulation, he hadn’t even _thought_ about Tommy’s dad. Apparently, he wouldn’t need any help.

“Oh My Goodness!” Gordon jumped at Dr. Coomer’s bellow, shoving the email, envelope and all, into his inventory. Bubby started laughing hysterically, and Tommy let out a long “Awwww!” Gordon’s mind raced with dread, trying to remember what they could have found in his pictures to garner such a reaction… and then remembered.

He turned, hands up, already smiling against the ribbing he _knew_ was coming. “I can explain-”

“Really?” Bubby crowed, holding up the damming evidence with a wide grin. Dr. Coomer was beaming, while Tommy looked like he was trying not to laugh. One look at Gordon’s face broke him though, and he burst into giggles.

“Okay, so first off- it was Joshie’s idea,” Gordon said, pointing at the picture. It was him and Joshie, last Halloween. It had fallen on a weekend, so he’d offered to take him trick-or-treating that night. Joshie’s other dad, Avery, had agreed, and Gordon had picked up Joshie. And Joshie’s costume.

And Avery’s homemade _matching_ costume. Which had been made for _Avery_.

Who was about a foot taller than Gordon.

Needless to say, Gordon’s “Wild West Stallion” costume would have looked better if he didn’t look like he was swimming in the fabric, but what was important was that he and Joshie were clearly having a great time. Joshie was up on his shoulders, clinging to the ears of the fake horsehead, giving a big, open-mouthed smile to the camera from under an oversized cowboy hat. Meanwhile, Gordon grinned sheepishly out from the oversized neck of the horse costume.

“I don’t care _who_ _se_ idea it was, you look ridiculous,” Bubby laughed, pulling the picture back and looking at it again. “Though, it is a better picture of your kid, I’ll give you that.”

“Your boy _is_ beautiful! And also a cowboy!”

“Yeah, he… he _really_ likes cowboys.”

“When is this from, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asked, plucking the picture from Bubby’s hand and smiling at it. “He looks - he’s a pretty small boy!”

“That was this year. He’s only six. Just had his birthday, uh… a couple weeks ago.” A birthday he hadn’t been able to stay at, for… reasons. Popping balloons full of candy was a great idea for a kid’s party in theory, but in practice it had been… a lot. He shook himself. “I forgot that was in here. We took that picture right before we headed out for trick-or-treating. It got sent it to my work email by mistake - none of these servers can _send_ files outside the facility, so I had to dig up a USB to actually take it home. That’s the most interesting thing you’re going to find in there, though.”

“Well, I would say it was worth the detour!” Dr. Coomer announced. He held one hand out to Tommy for the photo, and when Tommy handed it over, carefully placed it back in the crate. “However, I do believe I hear some Beeper Buppies coming this way, and we wouldn’t want them to get to Gordon’s Desktop, now would we?”

Gordon listened, and, sure enough, he could hear the approaching crackle of Beeper Buppies. “I mean, I can’t say there’s a lot in here that’s worth saving,” he said, switching the crowbar out for something with a longer range. “But, I’d rather not have to talk to tech support, if I can help it.”

“Mr. Freeman, I think since we’re - since they sent us in to get the viruses, _we_ _’re_ tech support.”

“That is an excellent point, Tommy!” Gordon finally settled on a minigun - it was heavy, and sort of a pain, but you didn’t really have to _aim_. The fact that the rattle of it felt almost comforting in his hands was secondary. “All the more reason to keep them out of my computer.”

“FOR THE DESKTOP!” Bubby howled, charging back out the door and around the corner.

“BUBBY!” Gordon shouted with half fondness, half exasperation, taking off after him with Dr. Coomer and Tommy hard on his heels.

Together they threw themselves into the next fight, and Gordon let himself ignore the implications of what he’d found. He’d talk to Tommy about it _after_ they got out of here.


End file.
